A Series of Moments
by Drakochannojutsu
Summary: A series of drabbles about Kojuurou and Masamune. KoMasa, ranging from T-M in rating. Modern AU
1. Morning

Morning. Masamune enjoyed laying there for a few minutes before getting up, listening to the sounds of the house. The shuffling of feet down the halls, the fragrant tea that Kojuurou liked, the birds chirping merrily outside his window. This brief moment before the world was conscious of him, and he could go unnoticed. No demands on his time or his effort…

Familiar heavy footsteps making their way down the hall, and the rap of knuckles on his door. "Masamune-sama, it's time for breakfast." Of course. Maybe if he didn't answer… A louder knock. "I'm coming in."

The door opened, and Kojuurou stepped through the door. He hadn't buttoned his shirt up all the way yet, the collar laying open uncharacteristically. Masamune turned his gaze towards the man, blinking once, slowly.

"Good morning Kojuurou."

"Good morning Masamune. Breakfast is ready, and you'll be late if you don't get up…" His tone was gentle, but insistent. Always the image of a perfect retainer, though it was old fashioned. Masamune made a show of groaning, rolling over, and finally sitting up, but he wasn't as loath to do so as he acted.

Kojuurou left the room with a vague smile, and closed the door. Masamune almost got up, to pull him back into the room, and maybe tug him over to the bed to sit together with him for a few minutes, reveling in the warmth of another person, especially that person. But he didn't, and then the moment was gone.

Heavy sigh, and feet swinging out of bed onto the soft carpet of his floor. Morning routine, so routine that he shuffled about it only half-consciously, pulling on his school uniform and gathering his things in his school bag, to the bathroom to brush his teeth and run some product through his hair before he'd gathered himself enough to go into the kitchen. Toast and eggs, and a small bowl of miso soup, with a glass of milk and a cup of that strong green tea Kojuurou liked so much, and so Masamune had grown to like it as well.

He slid into the seat, and started to eat, surreptitious glances towards Kojuurou's face as he read the morning paper (business section), and sipped at his own mug of tea. In the time it had taken him to get ready, Kojuurou had buttoned his shirt the rest of the way and put on a tie. He glanced towards Masamune, finally setting the paper down.

"I trust you slept well, Masamune-sama?"

"Mmh," was all the reply he gave, the vague affirmative enough for Kojuurou though, it seemed.

And so the conversation went, quiet, routine. Comfortable. Habitual.

One of those moments that Masamune didn't want to end, lingering over his breakfast for as long as he could.


	2. Shower

The sound of the water echoed in the shower, audible through the thin door of the bathroom. Even through the closed window the cicadas were loud. Kojuurou had the time for a soak in the tub, but the cloying summer heat made even the thought of the hot water unpleasant. When he stepped in, the water was cool on his skin, sapping away the stifling heat. He took his time, washing hair and body, so the sudden sound of the door opening made him freeze, turning to look through the textured glass at who would intrude when obviously someone was in here.

A familiar mop of artfully mussed dark hair and the eye patch were unmistakable, even though the clouded glass.

"Masamune-sama, is something wrong?"

He moved to turn the faucet off, but a moment later the door was sliding open and Masamune stepped in, still wearing a pair of jeans but lacking his shirt. It didn't seem to bother Masamune, as he closed the shower behind him, and leaned forward to catch Kojuurou's lips in a kiss before the older man could even react.

Kojuurou's eyes widened, and suddenly Masamune's arms were wrapped around his waist, pulling their bodies close. Masamune skin almost felt feverish compared to the cool water, and as the shower dampened his pants, the denim stuck to his legs, clinging to his slim form. Water dripped down across his hair, slowly soaking it, as he sucked at Kojuurou's lip.

Kojuurou managed to pull away from the kiss, and Masamune's grey eye turned towards his face.

"Don't." The single word from Masamune's lips was enough to make him close his mouth where he'd been preparing to say this wasn't the time or place. His arms tightened around Kojuurou again, pulling him close. Masamune tucked his face into the crook below Kojuuou's chin, nipping gently at the skin. "I just needed to touch you…"

Absurd, needy, selfish. The young head of the Date clan acted sometimes so much like a child. Sometimes he was only aware of his own desires, his own wants, impulsive and rash as they were. Nothing would stop him when he was like this, not even Kojuurou's steady words and even head. Kojuurou couldn't help but smile to himself.

"You should have at least undressed…" he said quietly, and felt the sharp nip in response to his words.

"Shit… Always scolding me over every little thing. Can't you just enjoy things without questioning them now and then?" But Kojuurou's fingers were already tugging at the soaked denim, peeling open the front. "You see?" He could feel the grin against his neck. "Sometimes it's better this way."

He didn't justify it with a response—it would only make him insufferable later—and slid his thumbs between Date's hips and the fabric of his pants, pulling it downward slowly as it clung to Masamune's legs. Finally, they were far enough down that a kick from Date freed him from them.

"Kojuurou," Date purred, leaning up against Kojuurou in the cool water, his voice a low hiss in the man's ear. It sent a shiver down his spine. There was some small voice that told him he was taking advantage of Masamune here, but sometimes, somehow, he felt more like it was the other way around… But enough thinking. He ran a thumb along Date's jaw, tilting his chin up, catching it in a kiss. His fingers closed over the dark leather of the eye patch, peeling it off Date's face and hanging it on the shower caddy as an afterthought.

Date pulled back, letting out a wordless growl and biting down on Kojuurou's neck a moment later, drawing a muffled grunt from Kojuurou's throat. "That hurt," he muttered, but didn't comment on Date's downward journey, until he was kneeling on the tiles, the stream of water from the shower head falling directly onto his head and wetting his hair. The water ran down his face, over the scar that the eye patch hid, around that other grey eye that looked eerily like a cat's… or perhaps a dragon's. He reached down, pushing hair out of Masamune's face.

"Tch…" Date batted the hand away, gaze breaking from Kojuurou's. Suddenly, Masamune's tongue slid up his length, and the outstretched hand groped at the wall. Of course…

The cheeky grin was the only response he got to the glance he shot downward. "I don't think this is… the time or place," he said, though he couldn't help the gasp that slid from his lips. "Masamune-sama…"

Before he could argue again, Date was standing, running fingers through his hair to push it back from his face, and smirking up at Kojuurou. "Why? I don't have anywhere to be. You don't have anywhere to be." He advanced, leaning against Kojuurou's chest. Date's hand splayed across the older man's stomach between them, then slid down across his hip. His voice dropped to a hiss, smirk curling up the corners of his lips as the words slipped through his mouth. Sweet and smooth and low and dangerous. "Fuck me."

That smirk widened as Kojuurou's face expressed the processing of that simple statement. Before he could react, fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him down into a rough kiss, all teeth and tongue and bruising force. Kojuurou reached down, pulling legs up over his hips, taking half a step so Masamune's back was against the wall of the shower. He felt Date lock his ankles together behind his back, the impatient roll of hips against him, a groan released into the kiss.

The kiss broke, the sharp bite of nails into his back as he pressed into Date, a low sound, not quite a moan from Masamune's lips. Locked together for a moment, and then the roll of hips again, that flash of bemused grey eye, dark with lust, and a mouth slightly parted, leaking soft sounds. Kojuurou leaned in, but Date's face twisted, teeth digging into his neck. A hiss of pain, a replying jerk of his hips, forcing Masamune's teeth to free his flesh as a moan escaped him. It wasn't gentle, but oh, it was good. He felt the sting of the hot water in the scratches on his back, the arch of Masamune's lithe body. The heat and pulse and passion.

Water dripped down, his hair no longer pushed back across his skull, and teeth worried at his lower lip, biting down hard, then releasing to find another patch of skin to mark. Masamune's quiet sounds echoed in the tiled chamber, even over the sound of the water, and all too soon he was flush against Kojuurou's body, the hot stream of his climax across Kojuurou's stomach and chest, and the sudden weight as all the energy slipped from him as Kojuurou finished as well, panting against Masamune's shoulder.

They both needed the strength of the wall for a moment, and with his eyes closed, he felt hands reach up, fingers intertwining behind his head, and soft nips spreading across his collarbones, lower to his chest. Not needy and filled with passion. But marking him nonetheless.

Kojuurou reached for the wash cloth, wordlessly wiping them both off in the hot water. The only evidence of what they'd done, the marks across his back.


	3. Goodnight

The air smelled like snow, and indeed, the first fat flakes had started to fall not long after the sun had set. There was a chill over the house, and the quiet hum of room-heaters was audible here and there. Date padded through the halls, pausing for a moment at his door, then scowled, and continued on down the hall, a few doors and to the left, he knocked gently on the doorframe.

"Yes?" The deep voice from within, and the rustling of someone doing mundane tasks around their room.

"Can I come in?"

"Masamune-sama… of course." The door slid open, revealing him in sleepwear and his hair falling around his face. Masamune liked it when it was like that, still damp from the shower and the way it fell around his face. The room was warm and humid from the shower and the oil-heater that sat silently in the corner unlike those fan-models that seemed to be popular with the rest of the house.

Kojuurou sat down on the edge of his bed, elbows propped up on his knees.

"Is there anything you need? I was about to go to sleep."

"I was wondering… Could I sleep with you tonight?" He realized what a child he sounded like. Date scoffed at himself, but Kojuurou's smile widened, and he nodded.

"Well, go on, the sheets may be a bit cold but they'll warm up soon enough." Kojuurou stood, and turned off the light. The moon was bright, the light spilling out from around the curtains of his window, enough to see by. Date hadn't yet gotten into bed, but when Kojuurou slid into the covers, Masamune reached down, tugging them up and over his own body, immediately feeling the warmth of Kojuurou and squirming towards it.

An arm wrapped around his shoulders, and tugged him close, their legs tangling after a moment, comfortable and close and warm. Masamune tucked his head in against Kojuurou's form, smiling to himself, his own arm snaking in around Kojuurou's waist. His. Kojuurou was _his_ and no one could ever change that…

That fierce possessiveness made his smile fade, his arms tighten around the broader man's figure, face burying in against Kojuurou's chest, breathing in his smell. The smell of his soap, earthy and warm, the smell that lingered beneath it that was distinctly Kojuurou's smell.

Fingers closed into a fist against Kojuurou's back. His right eye. His retainer. His lover.

"Goodnight, Kojuurou."

"Goodnight, Masamune-sama…" Kojuurou murmured into Masamune's hair.


	4. Flustered

Kojuurou looked so stiff in that business suit and the office chair, the huge dark wooden desk and the monitor for the computer that was all slick new technology and contours. Masamune's last class of the day had been canceled, so he'd taken the bus to the offices where his family's business took place, under Kojuurou's watchful eyes. The other employees had smiled and greeted him, but had gotten cursory replies, and he'd slipped quickly out of small-talk with any of them in favor of going up to the floor where Kojuurou's office lay.

The office door was closed but not locked, and Masamune watched Kojuurou's face as he spoke into the phone receiver, brows creasing for a moment, fingers going up to adjust his glasses before he leaned back in the chair again. Masamune twisted the latch, so the door opened, and instantly Kojuurou's gaze raised, brows creasing and mouth twisting into a scowl before the door opened enough for him to recognize Date, at which point the scowl faded into surprise.

Kojuurou started to cut off the call, but before he could, the bud of an idea popped into Masamune's head, and he grinned. "Don't worry about me, you can finish your call," he said in a voice low enough not to be audible over the phone, but loud enough that Kojuurou heard, and hastily added apologies to whomever it was he was talking to.

Date leaned back against the door until it clicked shut, fingers flicking the lock without Kojuurou's notice as he strode away from the door, across the room to the desk. The older man barely glanced up, swiveling his chair around to click something on the computer desktop. Date didn't take kindly to being ignored, and settled on the floor, scooting over to pull Kojuurou's knee around, the chair swiveling towards him again.

Kojuurou's impatient glare was replaced with surprise and trepidation as he realized that Date was shuffling slightly closer, catching Kojuurou's legs just above his elbows as his fingers found Kojuurou's belt, sliding the leather through the buckle, unhooking the notch, and pulling it open to reveal the button of Kojuurou's pants.

Date's gaze drifted up towards Kojuurou's face, a grin spreading across his lips as Kojuurou's eyes met his, and without hesitation, his thumb flicked open the button, and eased the zipper downward on the man's slacks. Kojuurou shifted in his chair, and stammered a reply to the telephone's receiver as fingers tugged at fabric, revealing boxers beneath the designer slacks.

"Don't hang up, Kojuurou." It wasn't a request, and he could see Kojuurou's mind working through what he was at, and an unusual flush rose in the older man's cheeks. Before he could protest, Masamune had slipped him out of the opening in the front of the boxers, and heard Kojuurou's breath catch as his fingers started to work his length.

He could hear the strain in Kojuurou's voice, if only because he knew to listen for it. He knew the subtle changes in his breath, in his words, the way his fingers closed around the arm of the chair, the leather making quiet creaking noises as fingers dug into it. His tongue flicked out once, twice, tracing a swirl around the tip, gaze never leaving Kojuurou's face, and his retainer's gaze never once breaking from his.

Kojuurou's voice was almost audibly strained now, though he managed to keep his tone even, and bit back a gasp when Masamune closed his lips around his arousal. The leather creaked, and he felt the tension in the legs beneath his elbows, his own thumbs hooking into Kojuurou's belt loops as he leaned slightly further forward, gaining leverage to begin moving. Now the single grey eye was looking up through his bangs at the man's face as, finally, Kojuurou's gaze broke away from his, and his eye closed, teeth clenching as he fought to keep from letting out any noise, to keep from allowing his quickened breath to be heard.

Despite himself, even Masamune felt his pants becoming tighter with his motions, simply with the act of watching Kojuurou's pleasure, or perhaps of being the one providing it in the first place. He let out soft sounds, which only seemed to make it more difficult for Kojuurou to stifle his own, as fingers tangled in his hair, as if he wanted to pull Date away, but couldn't quite gather the strength or will to do it.

He quickened his pace instead, and glanced up to see Kojuurou's teeth biting into his bottom lip, eyes clenched shut. His breath shook with the effort of keeping it even, and his words were slower and his answers shorter to whomever he was speaking to. It wouldn't be much longer, he knew the signs well enough.

And sure enough, a few moments later, the grip in his hair tightened then disappeared entirely, and despite his best efforts, Kojuurou's breath came quick and short, and he pulled the receiver away from his mouth, eyes finally opening once more and fixing on Date's face as he spilled into Masamune's mouth. Pulling away, wiping his mouth with the back of one hand, Masamune reached for a tissue with the other, spitting into it and tossing it in among the opened envelopes and paper in the small bin beneath Kojuurou's desk, and smirked up at the man as he said his goodbyes.

The phone clicked back into place, and Kojuurou's brows rose. Date just grinned back, and pulled himself up into the chair, leaning forward to nip at Kojuurou's bottom lip, admiring the shine of sweat on the other man's forehead with no small sense of amusement and a little bit of pride. "Just felt like it. And now it's your turn, you see?" he murmured against the man's lips, single eye meeting Kojuurou's, and heart speeding at the answer he saw in the other's gaze.


End file.
